Kami, They Must Be CRAZY!
by The Chosen One1
Summary: Piccolo has called Vegeta's skills into question. Which leaves only one course of action...
1. And What, Specifically, Am I to Bring?

*Content sigh* Ahhh. Spring time in Ginger Town. There's no time like the present time to be alive, and no better place on Earth to be alive than here. With the cherry blossoms in their fullest bloom, it was like a cloud had descended to the ground, dusting the Earth in a layer of pink snow. But, unlike the snow of the winter season, one did not have to suffer the bitter frost, nor the sluggish sun slipping away at five in the afternoon. No, it was like having all the aesthetics of Christmas with all the warmth of a cool summer day.  
  
While the city herself was coursing with the hurried pulse of people, the blanket of nature surrounding knew exactly what pace to walk at - - Slow.  
  
Unlike the evolved monkeys known as humans, the creatures of the forest knew exactly how to settle down in their dens and take advantage of nature's grace and beauty. After all, how often does Earth (especially Earth of THIS dimension) get to have such a perfect and peaceful day? How often does the sun perch itself high on its throne, gesturing the clouds aside so as to whisper to the people below warm words of encouragement and love? How often does the wind opt for a leisurely pace, settling on a temperament that is a perfect mix of warm and cool? Face it, how often does it ever get this quiet?  
  
**THIS IS GROUND CONTROL TO MAJOR TOM !!!  
  
YOU'VE REALLY MADE THE GRADE...!**  
  
(Not often enough, it would seem.)  
  
Deeper within the forest's friendly hold, in a field surrounded by what ONCE was peaceful cherry blossoms and grass, were gathered a curious and colorful assortment of people. It was hard to count their numbers, but there looked to be a little over a dozen of various shapes, sizes, and ages.  
  
They were set up for an afternoon picnic, though the small stage, personal generator and karaoke machine indicated that there was some considerable planning put into this picnic.  
  
On the grass the people were dropping their sandwiches and clasping their hands over their ears in agony (save for one spiky-haired man in an orange gi; he seemed to be enjoying himself). On the stage an older man, bald save for his gray goatee and wearing sunglasses, butchered David Bowie's song "Space Oddity".  
  
"THIS IS MAJOR TOM TO GROUND CONTROL!  
  
I'M STEPPING THROUGH THE DOOR!  
  
AND I'M FLOATING IN A MOST PECULIAR WA-AAAY!  
  
AND THE STARS LOOK VERY DIFFERENT TODAA-AAAAAY!"  
  
"Will someone SHUT HIM UP?" Vegeta growled, doing everything in his power NOT to obliterate the old master.  
  
"Oh c'mon Vegeta," Goku said, clapping along to Roshi's rendition. "It's not THAT bad."  
  
"FOR HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERE AM I SITTING IN A TIN CAN!  
  
FAAAAAAAAAAAAAR ABOVE THE WORLD!"  
  
"Compared to WHAT?"  
  
It had been a tradition ever since Vegeta became one of the good guys. (Or was it when Goku came back to life after Buu? She could never remember.) The group would gather during the blossoming of the cherry blossoms for what Bulma liked to call a "company picnic". (Didn't matter that no one else from Capsule Corp was invited. It sounded good, and looked even better on tax return forms.) And, aside from the "Brolly Incident", it'd been a pretty successful ritual. Everyone seemed to have fun, including Vegeta (though he'd never admit it). Bulma always made sure to bring PLENTY of food capsules (she was feeding two extra Saiya-jin children this time around, after all). Sure Piccolo never bothered to show up (though you never heard anyone but Gohan complain), and Yajirobe couldn't even be CHASED away ("Next year I'm charging him per plate," Bulma told herself). But it was fun nonetheless.  
  
Against better judgement and the BEGGING her husband did every year, however, Bulma kept bringing the karaoke machine.  
  
Which would probably explain why she never drank except at these get- togethers. ^_^  
  
"Thank you!" Roshi bowed to the non-existent ovation of the crowd (Goku's cheers and whistles not counting, of course). "Now, for my NEXT number..."  
  
"Get down, ya old lech!" Krillin ordered, trying to force his old master down. "It's MY turn, remember!"  
  
"Fat chance! I already picked two more songs!" Roshi kept Krillin at bay, propping his foot against the midget's bald skull (he shaved his hair off again, favoring the bald look during the spring time). Despite his size, the small fighter was actually quite strong, and it was taking the old Turtle Hermit quite a bit to keep him away from his microphone.  
  
"No way!" Krillin grunted. "I was going to sing!"  
  
*KA-BOOM!*  
  
A golden ball of chi sailed down from above, smashing through the karaoke monitor. Glass and wires spewed everywhere as the mechanical affront to style erupted into flames. Both Krillin and Roshi were sent flying off the edge of the stage and into the cake.  
  
"MY MACHINE!" Bulma screamed.  
  
"THE CAKE!" Goku echoed.  
  
The group gazed upwards, to where the bolt of energy arrived from. A dark silhouette, shrouded by the blazing gaze of the sun, descended to the stage below.  
  
Emerald skin, white cape and matching turban, black gi, brown moccasins, permanent scowl and generally antisocial disposition. Yep, it could be only one person.  
  
"Piccolo!"  
  
Gohan seemed to be the only one pleased to see the Namek-demon, and, despite his age, couldn't resist rushing to his former-sensei and giving him a hug.  
  
"Aw, why'd you go and do that Piccolo?" Goku moped.  
  
"Are you KIDDING?" the Namek fumed, massaging his ears. "I could hear you from the plateaus. And between YOUR eating like an elephant and Roshi's crooning, it was all I could do not to go insane."  
  
"Too late for that," Chi Chi whispered, arms folded in scorn.  
  
Now, Vegeta is no fool. To have survived this long, and against this many powerful fighters, is clear indication of his mental skill and tactical prowess. But one thing he LOVES, his one CONSTANT Achilles Heel (aside from his pride), is instigating. He LOVES to push people's buttons. ESPECIALLY when he knows that he can get away with it. (He's like a spoiled brat that way.)  
  
And with Piccolo being an open target, and with this many people around (and with Kakarot there to keep him from getting his gonads ripped off), he'd be a FOOL not to push some buttons.  
  
"Aw, the singing too much for the Namek's sensitive ears?" Vegeta mocked, moving from his spot against the tree and advancing to a much closer vantage-point (irritation is proportional to the proximity one has to the irritant, after all).  
  
"No," Piccolo started, "Not yet. But the possibility that you might have been next was."  
  
Point to Piccolo.  
  
Vegeta scoffed. No WAY was he going to let the Namek get the last word in. "Hn. Those ears of yours help enhance your hearing. Too bad they can't compensate for lack of talent."  
  
Point to Vegeta.  
  
"Just because you can JUDGE talent doesn't mean you HAVE any, Vegeta."  
  
Two points Piccolo.  
  
"Uh...guys?" Gohan tried to interject. "Aren't you being a little silly?"  
  
"SHUT UP!" The pair spat back.  
  
"Ooo. My dad just told your brother what for." Chibi Trunks and Chibi Goten watched on from the base of the stage, munching popcorn and REALLY itching for a fight to break out.  
  
"So what?" Goten responded. "Gohan could beat your dad any day. And quit stealing my popcorn!"  
  
"And you do?" Vegeta scoffed.  
  
"Compared to you? Yes," was Piccolo's response. "Then again, GOKU has more talent than YOU do." He jutted a green finger over at Goku, who managed to pull himself out from the cake to see who was talking about him.  
  
"Moo? Bfee?" Goku inquired, gullet full of cake and face covered in frosting.  
  
(Ladies and gentlemen, this contest has just went into SUDDEN DEATH!)  
  
"THAT second-rate peon?!?" Vegeta fumed, his rage boiling over to near-critical levels. (Apparently his loss to Goku is still a sensitive subject.) "ABSURD!!!"  
  
"You're right," Piccolo smirked (the set-up WAAAAAY too good to pass up). "I'd say you two are equally bad. It's YAJIROBE you need to worry about."  
  
And, if you listened carefully, you could hear the sound of Vegeta's ego scraping against the blackboard of his skull. If looks could kill, there wouldn't be enough of Piccolo to identify as a body. If it weren't for the fact that Piccolo would snap him like a number-2 pencil, he'd blast him back to Snake Way.  
  
"FINE!" Vegeta spewed forth, his words that of fire and rage. "If you think you're so hot, then bring it! You, me, Kakarot, the brats...we're having a contest to see just who can sing the best!"  
  
Nearly a dozen-and-a-half heads perked up.  
  
"Oh, there is NO WAY you are getting me involved in this!" Yajirobe protested in the distance.  
  
"I will PROVE, once and for all, that I, VEGETA, PRINCE of ALL Saiya- jins, am the greatest in the Universe. Both as a warrior AND as a performer."  
  
Piccolo let his hands relax at his sides. "Shame I destroyed the karaoke machine, or I'd take you up on your offer."  
  
"Aaaaaactually," came Bulma from behind them, "the karaoke player is fine. It's just the monitor you destroyed. So, technically, we can still have it."  
  
Gohan came up beside her. "But if the monitor is destroyed, then how will we know what songs we're singing? Or, for that matter, how will we know WHAT to sing?"  
  
Bulma's eyes lit up, her super-genius mind clocking in at 100 giga- hertz a second (note to non-geeks: That's like strapping a jet engine to the Roadrunner; RIDICULOUS fast!!!).  
  
"I've got it!" She proclaimed. "We'll have Jam Session."  
  
"Huh?" Came the response from the group.  
  
"Basically," she explained, "the computer will pick the songs at random, and we have to make up the lyrics as we go."  
  
"OH!" Future Trunks perked up. "Kinda like ad-libbing!"  
  
"EXACTLY! And, at the end, H.E.R.B.I.E. here," she motioned to the tennis ball-sized robot hovering behind her," will judge each contestant by pitch, style, harmony, and originality."  
  
"Cool!" Yamucha squealed with delight (causing everyone to question his claims of heterosexuality).  
  
"So what does the winner get?" Tien inquired, vaguely intrigued by all this.  
  
"THAT will be decided by the winner at the end," Vegeta interrupted. The Saiya-jin prince then turned to face Piccolo. With a smirk on his face that just BEGGED to be smacked off, he marched up to the Namek-demon hybrid. He thrust his arm outward, shoving the microphone into Piccolo's chest.  
  
"And YOU get to go first."  
  
To be continued.... 


	2. The REAL Ma Junior

Piccolo stared down at the jumble of glass and wires that was his foe, its opaque "eye" (or what was LEFT of it) glaring up at him like some quadriplegic midget cyclops. The Demon King could SWEAR he heard it mocking him (though, in reality, it was just Vegeta), and it unnerved him so.  
  
*I should've finished you when I had the chance.*  
  
"Okay, the modifications are complete," Bulma Briefs emerged from underneath the contraption, splotches of oil pot-marking her normally peach face (which was odd, considering a karaoke machine doesn't NEED oil). She dusted her hands and, with her free foot, kicked the panel shut. "The machine is programed to pick the songs at random. Once chosen, the title will appear here." She pointed to a small video panel she had attached to the machine.  
  
"And then I just make up the words as I go along, correct?"  
  
"Clear to see why you're the brains of the group," she said sarcastically (but with an oh-so-lovable grin ^_^).  
  
She continued to speak, this time addressing the anxiously waiting guests converged on the lawn. "Once the singer has completed the song, H.E.R.B.I.E.," she motioned to the hovering robot beside her, who waved back at the crowd with its minuscule robotic arms, "will then judge the competitor's performance."  
  
"Wonderful," Piccolo said with all the enthusiasm of a spayed puppy.  
  
Bulma continued. "So as to avoid any issues of succession, the next contestant will be chosen at random by the computer. And you WILL take your turn!" She focused this last one towards Yajirobe and Oolong, who were suspiciously far away from the group."  
  
"Oh yeah?" Oolong huffed, folding his arms. "And what if we don't?"  
  
[Kler-CHAK!]  
  
The pair immediately found themselves staring down a pair of Gatteling Guns, which were attached to two giant mechas, which ALSO were being piloted by two chibi Saiya-jins.  
  
"We have bacon for a week," Chibi-Trunks said with a devilish grin. Goten smacked his lips in hungry anticipation.  
  
Oolong plopped back down on the ground, defeated.  
  
"Poop."  
  
"Enough with the exposition!" Vegeta hollered from his position beside the tree. "We were all here when you told us the first time!"  
  
"I wasn't!" Yelled back Chaozu.  
  
"Who cares? Get on with it, woman!"  
  
Ignoring her husband (she'd make his suffer later tonight), the blue- haired CEO of Capsule Corp flipped the black switch behind the machine and, with Goku providing a drum-roll (using a pair of chicken legs as drum sticks and Master Roshi's head as a drum), pressed the shiny red "start" button.  
  
"Let's get this contest started!"  
  
*Click!*  
  
Piccolo retreated back a step, moving away from the machine, anticipating an eruption of flames or some kind of impossibly powerful beast to leap out from the screen. (To be honest, that's what he was kind of HOPING for.)  
  
Instead of fire or an evil creature, a familiar beat echoed from the speakers.  
  
*These idiots want a song? I'll give them a song.*  
  
Ignoring the laughs from the crowd, the Demon King quickly cleared his throat...  
  
(A/N: Pop in those CD's, fire up those MP3's, and sing along with Piccolo as he performs HIS version of Eminem's "The Real Slim Shady". Enjoy. ^_^)  
  
[Krzzz!]  
  
May I have your attention, please?  
  
May I have your attention, please?  
  
Will the real Ma Junior please stand up?  
  
I repeat, will the real Ma Junior please stand up?  
  
(We're gonna have a problem here.)  
  
(Verse 1)  
  
Y'all act like you've never seen a Namek before;  
  
jaws all on the floor  
  
like Goku and Chi Chi just burst in the door,  
  
started whoopin' his @$$ worse than before  
  
(Why won't he get a divorce?)  
  
Hitting him with a skillet. [KLANG!]  
  
"I'm the Prince of the..."  
  
Oh, wait. No, wait. You're kidding.  
  
Vegeta didn't just say what I think he did, did he?  
  
And Kami-sama said...  
  
NOTHING YOU IDIOTS!!!  
  
Kami-sama's dead!  
  
I swallowed him like Skittles! [Slurp!]  
  
All your Saiyan kids love Piccolo -  
  
"Chicka chicka chicka Ma Junior. I'm sick of him!  
  
Look at him,  
  
flying around, wearing that you-know-what,  
  
doing that Demon Screw."  
  
"Yeah, but he's so cool, though."  
  
Yeah, probably got a couple of screws up in my head loose.  
  
But no worse  
  
than what's going on in Krillin's bedrooms. [Bark! Bark!]  
  
Sometimes I just wanna put these peons in their place,  
  
but can't.  
  
But it's cool for Vegeta to rule a dead race.  
  
"I am the Saiyan prince!  
  
I am the Saiyan prince!  
  
Just look at my hair, it's all up in a pretty fritz!" [ZAP]  
  
And that's the message that we deliver to little kids,  
  
and expect them not to know what a Super Saiyan is.  
  
Of course they're gonna know what intercourse is  
  
by the time they hit fourth grade - -  
  
they've got Master Roshi's porno mags, don't they?  
  
We ain't nuthin' but Nameks.  
  
Well, 'cept for that prick Radditz,  
  
who I dropped like a nasty habit. [AUGH!]  
  
Well if we can wish back dead animals and antelopes  
  
then I guess Yamucha's sex life still has some hope. [Eww!]  
  
If you feel like I feel I've got the antidote.  
  
Oolong, wish for panty hose!  
  
Sing the chorus, and it goes...  
  
(Chorus)  
  
I'm Ma Junior  
  
Yes, I'm the real Junior.  
  
All you other Ma Junior's are all major losers.  
  
So won't the real Ma Junior please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
'Cause I'm Ma Junior.  
  
Yes, I'm the real Junior.  
  
All you other Ma Junior's are all frikin' losers.  
  
So won't the real Ma Junior please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
(Verse 2)  
  
Hercule doesn't like to stick around for the fighting.  
  
Well I do.  
  
So f*ck him and f*ck Buu, too.  
  
You think I give a d*mn about that phony?  
  
Hell, I just wish Buu'd turn him into candy  
  
or a log of baloney.  
  
"But Junior, why you so harsh?  
  
He's not really that bad."  
  
Why? All he does is lie about you guys and steal our fame,  
  
just like he did at the stupid Cell Games.  
  
Sh*t, I wish I could just send him to Hell myself,  
  
so he can meet up with the rest of the Ginyu Force;  
  
and hear them argue over who gets to fry his Afro first.  
  
Bulma Briefs likes to point and laugh at me.  
  
"He's cute, but I hear he's a eunuch. Tee hee!"  
  
I should download on audio and MP3  
  
and show the whole world how you gave Vegeta V.D. [HA!]  
  
I'm sick you little Saiyan brats. All you do is annoy me.  
  
If it weren't for Goku I'd destroy you.  
  
And there's a planet of Nameks just like me, who cuss like me,  
  
who just don't give a f*ck like me.  
  
Who dress like me.  
  
Walk, talk, and act like me.  
  
It just might be  
  
the next best thing,  
  
but not quite me!  
  
(Chorus)  
  
'Cause I'm Ma Junior.  
  
Yes, I'm the real Junior.  
  
All you other Ma Junior's are all major losers.  
  
So won't the real Ma Junior please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
'Cause I'm Ma Junior  
  
Yes, I'm the real Junior.  
  
All you other Ma Junior's are all frikin' losers.  
  
So won't the real Ma Junior please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
(Verse 3)  
  
I'm like a head-trip to listen to.  
  
'Cause I'm only giving you things you joke about with Korin  
  
inside his living room.  
  
The only difference is I got the balls to say it  
  
in front of Bulma,  
  
and I don't have to be a wuss  
  
like Vegeta or Goku at all.  
  
I just get on the Lookout and spit it,  
  
and, whether you like to admit it,  
  
I'm more powerful than 90% of you fighters out there.  
  
Then you wonder why Vegeta always shuts up  
  
when I tell him.  
  
It's funny -  
  
'Cause at the rate I age I'll look like I'm thirty  
  
and conquering the world when you're in the nursing home hurtin', [owwww]  
  
tryin' to pull of a Gallik Gun and Kaokan and wonderin'  
  
why this whole bag of Senzu Beans isn't workin'.  
  
And every single person is a Daimao lurkin'.  
  
He could be beating up the Ox King,  
  
frying him like onion rings. [SIZZLE]  
  
Or over West City, circlin',  
  
screaming "I don't give a f*ck!"  
  
and for kicks blow the city up.  
  
So would the real Ma Junior please stand up  
  
and put one of those fingers on each hand up  
  
and be proud to be out of your mind and out of control  
  
and, one more time, loud as you can, how does it go?  
  
(Chorus)  
  
I'm Ma Junior.  
  
Yes, I'm the real Junior.  
  
All you other Ma Junior's are just stupid losers.  
  
So won't the real Ma Junior please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
'Cause I'm Ma Junior  
  
Yes, I'm the real Junior.  
  
All you other Ma Junior's are just stinkin' losers.  
  
So won't the real Ma Junior please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
'Cause I'm Ma Junior.  
  
Yes, I'm the real Junior.  
  
All you other Ma Junior's are all frikin' losers.  
  
So won't the real Ma Junior please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
'Cause I'm Ma Junior.  
  
Yes, I'm the real Junior.  
  
All you other Ma Junior's are all major losers.  
  
So won't the real Ma Junior please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
Please stand up?  
  
[Puff]  
  
Heheh.  
  
Guess there's a Ma Junior in all of us.  
  
F*ck it.  
  
Let's all stand up.  
  
[Fade out]  
  
The song finished, Piccolo tossed the microphone behind his back, the expression on his face clear indication that he was done (and VERY glad to have gotten it over with). Proceeding stage-left, he strolled through the firing squad of nasty looks and bitter sentiments (and the occasional tomato) with a very satisfied smirk.  
  
"Who's next?"  
  
To be continued...  
  
************************************************************************ 


	3. Runnin' Away Now

The Chosen One must speak on this,  
  
Man, I don't know how Weird Al does this. Making up parody's is HARD! Even harder when you've got work and other stuff to juggle. Mercy.  
  
And, WOW!, I NEVER expected this thing to catch on like this. One or two fans, maybe. If I'd known this baby was gonna get this kinda fan reaction, I would've held off posting it until it was all finished.  
  
But that's neither here nor there. To those of you who've been eternally patient, and for those who haven't been patient at all...and those others who have no clue what's going on (you know who you are), I delay no further in presenting to you the third chapter in my penultimate DBZ fanfic (and, as should be noted, my ONLY DBZ fanfic)...  
  
[Silence]  
  
_Kami, They Must Be Crazy._  
  
[Silence]  
  
The one you're reading.  
  
[Silence]  
  
[Sho's them along] Well, go on now. Start reading.  
  
[Silence]  
  
What are you people waiting for? A signal flare?  
  
[Silence]  
  
[groans] You take the mouse, you click the arrow, and you scroll doooooown. Demonstrates See.  
  
[Silence]  
  
[holds head, as if in pain] Fine. Just sit there and stare blankly at the screen. Not like I care. I only wrote the bloody thing. MY obligation has been fulfilled.  
  
[Silence]  
  
I swear, you fan-types wouldn't know how to find your a$$es with both hands tied behind your backs. And another thing...  
  
[Off-screen producer whispers into his ear]  
  
Producer: [whispering] You forgot to tell them to enjoy the fic.  
  
Oh...OH! [Flustered, turns readers] Heheh.  
  
[stewardess-like smile] Enjoy the fic.  
  
([underneath his breath] Oh, I am so getting flamed for this.)

...................................................................................................................................................

"What do you call a monkey with a sunburn?"  
  
"Ook?"  
  
"Ape-peeling! Get it! BWAHAHAHAAA!"  
  
"Ook."  
  
"Ah, what do you know? You're just a stupid monkey."  
  
Taking one final sip of his Mai Tai, King Kai (hey, they rhyme ) lounged back in his lawn chair, basking in the warm glow of Otherworld...light...stuff (how WAS there any light? They didn't have a sun). Beside him, his companion, the diminutive monkey known as Bubbles, balanced himself on his butt, content in his fascination of his own toes (ah, the simple mind of a monkey).  
  
Yes, things were relatively peaceful in the world of the Kai's. Uncharacteristically peaceful. Not that King Kai wasn't complaining, mind you. Ever since meeting up with Goku, he found that his life had gotten needlessly more...exciting. And by "exciting" I mean "needlessly more life-threatening". (Granted, it was because of Goku that he got this nice, large, lower-gravity planet, courtesy of South Kai...or was it East Kai? They all annoyed him the same. But that was neither here nor there.)

Still, all the same...  
  
"By the way, Bubbles, have you seen Gregory anywhere? He has my latest edition of _Excel Saga_."  
  
"Ook aak oop oop ee."  
  
"'Manga-version', you say. Well, that explains his absence (though what happened to my book is a whole new question entirely now)."  
  
"Ook."  
  
King Kai rested back again, interlacing his fingers behind his head.  
  
Yep, it sure was quiet.  
  
[Pause]  
  
Reeeeeeal quiet.  
  
[Longer pause]  
  
Quiet, quiet.  
  
[More pause]  
  
With nothing to do.  
  
[A pause of a pause]  
  
[An entire assortment of pauses.]  
  
[A complete collection of Yanni, Falco, and Michael Bolton worth of pauses]  
  
"Aw, screw it. Let's go see what's going on in Grand Kai's world." Irritated by all this lethargy, King Kai bolted up and, dragging him monkey friend by his ear, made his way off planet towards the planet of the Grand Kai.  
  
Besides, there probably wasn't anything interesting happening on Earth anyway...

.................................................................................................................................................

"HOW DARE YOU INSULT ME, YOU GENDER-LESS SPAWN OF SATAN!!!"  
  
The air temperature surrounding the general vicinity rose from a cooling 78- degrees Fahrenheit to a whopping 98.6-degrees, as pillars of steam seared from the dozen-plus bodies on the lawn. The sound of high-powered assault rifles and assorted heavy artillery being loaded and primed resounded like .45 caliber church bells.  
  
In short, the audience was NOT amused.  
  
"I DO NOT HAVE V.D.!!!" It was all Future Trunks AND Goku could do to keep Bulma from re-enacting "Alien Autopsy" right there on the stage (replacing the dead alien corpse with Piccolo's soon-to-be dismembered one). On the other side of the stage, Gohan and Goten were having no-less trouble (but proportionally less success). Chi Chi, screaming like some captured harpy, tore at and through the fruit of her womb and the love of her life like wet toilet paper in an effort to gorge on the eyes of one offending Namek. (That woman REALLY needs to seek anger management counseling. Seriously.)  
  
"Now this is what I call a party," mused Yajirobe as he munched on another handful of kettle corn.  
  
"For the last time, STOP EATING MY POPCORN!" Chibi-Trunks screamed, snatching his bucket of popcorn away from the tubby samurai.  
  
Piccolo, regarding the death threats as a warm operetta, leaned insolently against the back of a cherry blossom tree (sufficiently far enough away from the masses, of course), glancing over at Vegeta just across from him, a how you like THEM apples? expression written all over his demonic, green face.  
  
"Well then," Goku scratched the back of his head, not completely sure what just happened but more than aware enough of his surroundings (and that at least five people were powering up) to know that it wasn't a GOOD thing. "That certainly was..."  
  
"Hilarious!" Oolong squealed, laughing so hard bubbles were coming out of his nose. "The looks on your – snort! – faces was...hehahah...absolutely price hic less! Heheahaaaha – "  
  
_KLANG!!!_  
  
"Moving on..." Bulma continued, tossing back her iron skillet, which now sported a permanent indentation of Oolong's last painful expression. "Now H.E.R.B.I.E. will assess the information, and give his final judgement." She motioned to the spherical robot to her side. "H.E.R.B.I.E.?"  
  
The tiny robot bowed, and rolled onto the stage with its creator.  
  
"I must say," the robot began in an auspicious British accent, "I'm impressed." Piccolo scoffed arrogantly.  
  
"I didn't know noises like that could be created by a living creature. Kinda like what Regis would sound like if he were mating with a two-ton gorilla."  
  
"WHAT?!!"  
  
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding...Well, actually, I'm not. That was, by far, the most horrendous performance I've ever heard. And I've been programmed with the entire Flock of Seagulls collection. It was like someone viced open the gullet of a yak, shoved a blender down its throat, and set it to "puree". Obviously "talent" is an attribute your species lacks. Seriously, it must take an amazing amount of courage for you to walk around in public after a performance like that, because any other self-respecting person would've committed seppuku by now."  
  
A silent wind whistled through the group of Z-Warriors. An uncomfortable silence, which froze everyone and everything in its place. It was like time had tripped over its own two-feet, and stumbled in the mud.  
  
Nature took a pause, and all of the world was hushed.  
  
[One second]  
  
[Two second]  
  
[Three second]  
  
Entire Group: "BWAHAHAHAHAAAAA!"  
  
Underneath his tree Piccolo shuddered, his entire Namekian body surging with the unholiest of rage. His teeth ground so tight they sounded like metal blades scraping across each other. Given the overwhelming, undeniable, embarrassment, it was amazing that he hadn't atomized the entire party. With fists clenched with hatred and vision blurred by images of metallic evisceration, and the roar of a thousand insulting laughs, the Demon King did the one thing he could do given the circumstances–  
  
"Hmf!"  
  
He pouted.  
  
"Awww, look – the little Namek's blushing!" Vegeta laughed, taunting the now purple-faced Piccolo like some insolent fifth grader. "I think we hurt his feelings. Haw haw – "  
  
_KA-BOOM!!!_  
  
Suddenly, as if by some bizarre form of spontaneous combustion as yet documented, the tree behind Vegeta exploded into the stratosphere. In the distant horizon one could see the burning hunk of cherry tree arch down beyond the woods and ignite into a pillar of smoke (ala Wile E. Coyote).  
  
Vegeta sobered up very quickly.  
  
"Okay," Bulma swallowed the last bit of her laughter. "Now that we've got THAT out of the way, let's see who's up next." She snatched the edge of a giant sheet of cloth, and, with a masterful _woosh_!, yanked it back to reveal a giant spinning wheel, complete with the names of everyone present.  
  
"Is it my imagination," Tien started, "or is that a giant spinning wheel with all our names on it?"  
  
She gave a girly giggle. "I had one built for just such an occasion."  
  
Yamucha blinked. "You had a giant wheel-of-names created in the case event we would ever have a random singing contest."  
  
She nodded.  
  
Yamucha made like he was going to ask another question, specifically as to how she was able to keep the massive wheel hidden from them this whole time despite it being in plain sight right now. However, past-experience taught him that sometimes the only thing worse than a question is the answer (calling upon a less-than-pleasant Valentines Day memory from his days as Bulma's beau, in which a careless metaphor involving the word "trout" had him spending five months in intensive care).  
  
Wisely, he silenced himself.  
  
"I'm not even going to ask."  
  
"Wow!" Goku proclaimed behind his plate of ribs. "It's a giant circle!"  
  
The group cast a quick glance at Goku...then continued to pretend like he wasn't there. With a daft flick of the wrist, Bulma sent the wheel spinning. The names and colors associated with those very names blurred together. Whirling, twirling, spinning, tinning...spwinning...bwininin...  
  
_Gurlge_  
  
[Sound of author vomiting from motion sickness]  
  
Tien: [Thinking] Pleasedon'tletitbemepleasedon'tletitbeme –  
  
Yajirobe: [Thinking] Pleasedon'tletitbemepleasedon'tletitbeme –  
  
Yamucha: [Thinking] PleaseletitbemepleaseletitbemePLEASEletitbeme –  
  
Goku: [Thinking] I wonder if there's still some cake left on my boot. [Checks] THERE IS!!! [Begins sucking on boot]  
  
The wheel slows, passing Goku.  
  
Slooows past Bulma.  
  
Slooooows past Akira Toriyama.  
  
Slooooooooows past Videl.  
  
Slooooooooooooooooooooows past Future Trunks.  
  
Almost stopping...almost...catching on Vegeta's name...still moving....slooooooooooooowing...  
  
And stops on...VEGETA!  
  
Yajirobe: YES!!!  
  
...but a sudden and unexpected gust of wind pushes the wheel one name further, stopping it on...Yajirobe!  
  
Yajirobe: Crap!!!  
  
His name chosen at random (and by some freak act of the wind/the writer's will [evil laugh]), Yajirobe gathers his sword and his dignity (and the last bit of Lay's Potato Chips), and, like a man on death row, proceeds to his final fate...  
  
[AN: Alright people. Pop in those CD's and download those MP3's, because this song's coming courtesy of the Red Hot Chilli Pepper's – "Give it Away".]

.....

[Band starts playing]  
  
[Yajirobe screams]  
  
Verse 1  
  
Well you're freaky freaky frikin' green alien.

Well you're freaky freaky frikin' future champion.

Well you're freaky freaky frikin' Super Saiya-jin.

Tell me why you need me to fight with you again?

"Yajirobe, we need to do some training."

"Yajirobe, aliens are invading."

"Yajirobe, will you stop complaining?"

Makes me wish I'd stayed out of DB in the beginning.

What makes you think that I wanna be a fighter? 

What makes you think that I _like_ being a fighter?

Fighting guys twice my size who can breath fire?

Screw that noise! I'm not paid to be a martyr!

Chorus  
  
Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

I chill out on Master Korin's towah!

Verse 2  
  
Look at me, on the tower for eternity.

Chillin' out with a cat, gettin' food for free.

Can't fly, can't float, can't shoot energy.

So why would fighting Cell appeal to me?

I'm a low-brow, but I ain't some idiot

fighting guys twice my size who can kick my s#it.

I've stuck around long enough to do my little bit –

Cut off Vegeta's tale, then I knew that it was time to quit.

I'm not Krillin – that stupid little midget!

That Krillin, who likes gettin' his butt kicked.

Bob Krillin, who doesn't know when to quit –

Died more times than Chi Chi's pulled a hissey fit!

Chorus  
  
Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

Ooooooh! Oh yeah!!!

Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now! 

Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

I can't fly, so I'll hop a train right outta town!

[band solo]

Verse 3  
  
Don't know why everyone obsesses over me.

It's not like I've got some special ability.

If it were up to me I wouldn't be in this DBZ.

Instead I'm stuck here and Lunch gets away for free.

Long gone before all the fighting breaks out.

Long gone like chicks when Roshi mentions making out.

Gone with the wind, and I'm checking out.

Forget all this fighting, I'm gonna get me take-out.

Realize, I don't wanna be a fighter.

Live long, eat strong, and not meet Yemma.

What more do you need? I already beat Vegeta!

Gonna leave all the dying to Tien and Yamucha!

Chorus  
  
Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

I'm not fighting! Not no way! Nope! And no how!

Verse 4  
  
Well you've gotta gotta weiny named-a Krillin.

Well you've gotta gotta freak-a named Vegeta.

Well you've gotta gotta fighter named-a Goku.

So will you stop asking me to fight your battles for you?

"Yajirobe, will you help us fight the _Saiya-jins_? 

"Yajirobe, will you help us fight the _Androids_?"

"Yajirobe, will you help us fight the Majin Buu?"

Holy crap, do I look like Tyson to you?!!

Get a clue! I don't wanna be a fighter! 

Gettin' killed isn't my kind of cider!

My OWN blood is enough to make me spew.

You made this mess, so don't ask me to clean it for you!

Chorus  
  
Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

Runnin' away! Runnin' away! Runnin' away now!

Runnin' away now.

Runnin' away now.

Runnin' away now.

Runnin' away now.

[Fred: YABBA DABBA DOO!!]

Runnin' away now. Runnin' away now.

[Fred: YABBA DABBA DOO!!]

Runnin' away now. Runnin' away now.

[Fred: YABBA DABBA DOO!!]  
  
Runnin' away now. Runnin' away now.  
  
[Fred: YABBA DABBA DOO!!]  
  
Runnin' away now. Runnin' away now.  
  
[Song finishes]  
  
[Yajirobe faints from exhaustion]  
  
To be continued...

- AN: Gregory only exists in the anime. In the manga, there's just Bubbles and King Kai. (Though there is a pretty cool one-panel of King Kai btch- slapping Goku during training. Cool beans!)  
  
- AN: Akira Toriyama is the artist/writer/creator of Dragonball and Dragonball Z (but denies having ANYTHING to do with DBGT). It should also be noted that he's created other stuff, too. But if you wanna know about 'em, go to his website. (What do I look like, a manga dictionary? Psh! )  
  
P.S. – The above tirade was all a joke. I love fans. I love ALL the fans. You're all fun, fun, lollipops and sugar bears. If I could I'd give you all giant squishy teddy bears I love you all so much. [anime-smile]   
  
[Brief pause]  
  
Please don't kill me. OO 


End file.
